


Pidge's Razor

by ArchetypeOfAdespota



Series: LoveBug 'Verse [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftermath of, Awful Pick-up Lines, Communication Issues, Cuban Lance, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Generally the Team Wanders Around in Space and Wonders How Star Trek Got So Much Right, Humor, Jealous Keith, Lance May Be In a Commited Relationship But the Pick-up Lines Won't Stop, Mild Angst, Multi, Oh Lord The Cliches, Sarcasm, Snark, Space Opera, Space family, Supportive Yet Slightly Nauseated Team, That's Kind Of The Theme, cliches, gratuitous sci-fi references, klance, look - Freeform, love bug au, space jam - Freeform, texan keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 10:42:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12363957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchetypeOfAdespota/pseuds/ArchetypeOfAdespota
Summary: Pidge's Razor: When faced with competing possibilities, select the one which contains the most cliches and plan accordingly. Never attribute to evil that which can be explained by the universe laughing at you.DISCONTINUED





	Pidge's Razor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! Chapter one of the sequel to Love Bite(s). A few things to note before we go on this wild ride: there's a little 'M' up there in the corner instead of a 'T'. Any and all sexy stuff, past what an M rating would cover, will go in separate fics under this series. 
> 
> This one takes place three months after the end of Love Bite(s), and is gonna fall firmly under the established relationship tag. 
> 
> I'm so stoked, guys. I'm just gonna have fun with this one and hurl as many Love Bug caliber cliches at our poor kids as I can. Hope you enjoy this one just as much as the last one.

So, the thing about the universe is, it's kind of infinite. Not like, infinite as in "really big" in some exaggerated, metaphorical sense. It's _actually_ infinite. It's always growing, getting exponentially bigger with every fraction of a tick, and even the Galra with all of their extra-dimensional quintessence-fueled magitech can't change that fact. So it's honestly kind of sad that it had taken team Voltron as long as it had for them to reach one deceptively simple conclusion:

Zarkon hasn't actually conquered the universe. Not even close.

Lance hadn't really thought to question it, way back in the early days when Allura had pulled up the holomap and shown them the angry red of Zarkon's control engulfing tens of thousands of galaxies. It had been an incredibly stressful day up until that point, in all fairness; he'd just been plucked from his planet and tossed into a ten thousand-year-old war. If Allura wanted to finally tell him which way was up, he wasn't going to question it.

Except she'd gotten it wrong. And it took them over a year to figure that out.

It wasn't until they had raided the largest Galran data archive they'd found to date that Pidge had been able to get her hands on a real, current star map to update the castle's painfully out-of-date one.

"Huh." Hunk had said, gazing up at the much, much larger chart. "I thought the Galra empire was bigger."

Lance had laughed so hard he'd cried, pressing his face into Keith's shoulder and leaking tears of relief into his collar. Keith had been too lost in his own shock to even complain.

Turns out, when Allura had said that Zarkon had conquered the entire universe, she'd meant the _known_ universe. Specifically, what the Alteans had managed to map out before their empire fell. The Galra have had another ten thousand years to keep exploring, and conquering, and, well.

All told, the Galra have about a million galaxies under their belts. Which, y'know, not small, and something really needs to be done about that. But the thing about the universe? It's infinite. And there's somewhere in the realm of _two hundred billion_ galaxies in it.

So team Voltron? Not as alone as they thought. All they have to do is find the others, and hopefully this time, unlike the fiasco that was meeting the Blade of Marmora, nobody will need to get beaten to a pulp in an unnecessarily violent trial-by-combat scenario.

They may be too late to save the civilizations that already fell, but they can save the ones that are falling. Toppling the empire seems like an impossible task, but stopping it from growing any more? A cakewalk in comparison.

So, yeah. Here they are, just inside the edge of the war zone that is the borders of Zarkon's territory. Out here, the people aren't subjugated slaves, like the Olkari, and they haven't forgotten what freedom is, like the Balmerans. One intel-gathering trip to a small outpost and they'd had all the confirmation of that that they needed. There are rebels in this system, and they're fighting back against the tenuous control the Galra have managed to exert over them during their short occupation. All they have to do is hook up with this new resistance.

Which is why they're here, actually, in this bazaar that totally looks like something out of Star Wars. Lance squints at a hawker, standing in front of a canvas tent draped in raucously-colored textiles, juggling torches lit with multicolored flames. His cocky smirk is undermined by the slightly wild look in his eyes when he almost fumbles a catch.

"He's going to set his tent on fire." Keith remarks. He pulls them to a stop, gesturing idly with their joined hands towards the highest point of the torches arc; the flames are licking at one of the banners fluttering in the wind.

"Maybe it's fireproof?" Lance hedges. He sets his free hand on his hip and leans back to watch.

The banner ignites. The alien drops the rest of the torches in his fright, lighting the carpet beneath his feet as well.

"Nope." Keith pops the 'P'. Lance winces, eyeing the spreading conflagration. The hawker doesn't seem to be doing a very good job stomping it out, and the other stalls surrounding him are ignoring the ruckus.

"Uh, should we, maybe..."

An alien woman barrels out of the tent, shrieking and brandishing a large cylindrical object which she aims at the hawker, who is now also on fire. A blast of pink mist erupts from the end of it, blanketing the entire front of the tent and extinguishing the flames. The unfortunate hawker is left singed and dripping. Lance winces in sympathy when the woman whacks him over the back of the head and shoves him into the tent.

"I get the feeling that happens a lot." Keith turns away from the mess, gently tugging on Lance's hand. Lance follows, letting Keith weave them through the crowd while he continues gawking at all the vendors.

"I think we got seriously robbed, spending a whole year in Galra space before coming out here." He says. He tugs on Keith's hand a bit, and Keith slows a little so that Lance can peer at a display of multicolored glass figurines. "Space is actually _cool_ when it's not all subjugated and stuff."

"No." Keith says. Lance's hand freezes midway towards one of the figurines.

"But Keeeith." Lance whines. "Coran wouldn't have given us an allowance if he didn't want us to spend it!"

"You _have_ spent it." Keith jostles the shopping bags looped over his elbow meaningfully. They're all Lance's. Keith is carrying them because he is an excellent boyfriend, and also because Lance has a tendency to put down and forget about anything not actually attached to his person. "And don't call it an allowance, it makes us sound like ten year olds."

Lance sighs, but straightens up and backs away from the little statues. "You're no fun. Buzzkill. Wet blanket. Total stick in the mud."

Keith raises an eyebrow, and Lance's stomach flips at the easy smirk thrown his way. "Oh really. That's not what you said last night when I was-"

" _Keith_!" Lance lunges forward and claps a hand over Keith's mouth. His gaze darts frantically around them, as though any of the aliens passing by actually care about their sex life. "There are people!"

Keith rolls his eyes and tugs Lance's hand away. "I still don't get how you can be such an unbelievable flirt, and then clam up at anything that's not PG."

Lance straightens his jacket primly, turns on his heel and continues their slow journey down the vendor alley. "Because some of us have class, Keith, and value our privacy."

"Of course, that's what it is."

He magnanimously chooses to ignore the grin Keith hides behind his sleeve.

"Hey, love birds." Pidge's voice crackles to life over the comm links looped over their ears. "Got eyes on the target."

Keith reaches up and presses the 'talk' button. "Where are you at?"

"Row thirty-six, south end. There's a bunch of fantastic scrap swap booths down here, you might want to head down here yourself, Hunk. They've got this huge pile of used quantum circuit boards."

"Ooh, grab a 'ouple 'or me." Hunk's mouth sounds distinctly full when he joins in. There's an ugly slurping noise that makes Keith's nose crinkle in disgust, but Hunk sounds a little clearer when he says, "I might not be able to make it for a little while. There's this booth serving little skewered squid things that smell like teriyaki, but the line is huge and I'm not losing my place."

Lance rolls his eyes and taps his own comm. "Oh sure, I see how it is. Make us do all the work."

Pidge snorts. "Uh-huh. Keith, how many shopping bags has he got?"

Lance shoots Keith a warning look.

"Six."

Traitor.

They make their way down the rest of the aisle and turn down the end towards row thirty-six. They pass Hunk on the way by, who gives them a cheerful wave and an offer to hold Lance's shopping while they talk to the target. Keith looks incredibly relieved to hand them over, enough so that Lance feels obligated to reel him in and smack a thank-you kiss on his cheek.

"Right, so, simple enough mission, right. Just get her to come with us back to the ship so Shiro and Allura can talk to her." Lance reviews the (admittedly vague) mission parameters as they turn down the correct row. Keith shrugs.

"However we're supposed to do that."

Lance grins and bumps their shoulders together. "Well, I suppose I could persuade her. The ladies can't resist the Lanceinator, after all."

He waggles his eyebrows. Keith looks unimpressed.

"Why is your default plan always flirting?" He says. His shoulders hunch slightly, his grip tightening around Lance's hand. Lance scoffs.

"Why is your default plan 'stab it until it stops moving'?" He counters.

"At least I'm good at that. Your flirting doesn't even work." Keith frowns, turning away. Lance is offended, briefly, until he registers that the sour note in Keith's tone had sounded suspiciously like upset.

"Oh ho ho!" He grins, pausing in front of a clothing booth and yanking Keith in close. Keith scowls at him, and Lance briefly reflects on what it says about him that he's been conditioned to find that expression attractive. "Are you _jealous_?" He drags the word out teasingly, until it's practically a sentence of its own.

Keith's cheeks darken to a furious red. "Absolutely not."

Lance beams.

"Aw, Keith, my darling, my love, light of my life, you know you don't have anything to worry about!" He coos. "I would never dream of- hey! No! Get back here, I'm reassuring you of my eternal devotion!"

Keith pulls away and does his best to storm off, hindered both by Lance's insistent tugging at his jacket, and by the fact that he's forgotten to let go of Lance's hand.

"I don't really need to listen to that, thanks." Keith's tone is gruff, but Lance spots the corner of his mouth tugging upwards, and the sparkle in his eye when he ducks his head. He adds a little bit of victory shimmy to his walk as he lets Keith continue pulling him down the aisle.

"Aw, come on _mi cielo_ , don't be that way!" The tips of Keith's ears turn red.

"You're unbelievable." He mutters.

"And yet you deliberately choose to be around me." Lance points out, very reasonably.

"Clearly there's something wrong with me." Keith casts his gaze skyward. Lance nods in agreement.

"Absolutely, babe, and I'm glad you finally acknowledged it. Don't worry though, I'm sure there's a space-stylist around here somewhere who'd be willing to fix that awful mullet for you."

Keith just groans. The petty bickering carries them most of the rest of the way down the aisle. They trade harmless insults back and forth, rehashing arguments that are already so well worn Lance could probably write a script. Somehow, he still isn't tired of them. And he never will be, no matter what Pidge says, glaring at them over the breakfast table while they flick food at each other.

"Honeymoon phase", she says.

Puh-lease. It's been three months since they got together. Three months since that awful, amazing Love Bug took a bite out of Keith and set this crazy train in motion, and Lance has only grown to love Keith _more_. He hadn't even known that was possible. He's got _years_ of wooing left in him, alright? Keith has officially signed up for a lifetime sentence of mushy pet names and affectionate bickering. He can keep this up forever.

Keith finally snaps when they're near the end of the row, whirling on Lance with an ominous grin. He bats away Lance's hands, where he's been trying to jab the ticklish spots on his ribs, and darts in. Lance yelps as his back hits the corner post of somebody's tent. Keith swoops in before he can get away, pinning him to the wood and claiming his lips in a kiss made slightly clumsy by the rushed aim. Lance lets him, lets his eyes flutter shut as he hooks his fingers into Keith's belt loops and pulls him in closer. Oh yeah, he can _totally_ do this forever.

"Hey! You can't do that here!"

Something hard jabs into Lance's shoulder. He yelps, pulling away from Keith, who steps back to glare at the shopkeeper who's prodding at them with a broom handle.

"You two can take your weird mammalian mating displays somewhere else, you got me?" They say, lashing their tail. Lance feels a flush wash down his neck, and he scrambles away from the jabby end of the broom.

"Sorry!" He says, shoving a disgruntled Keith away, back towards the main avenue. "Our bad, got carried away, you know how it goes, we'll just be-"

Lance's eye falls on the display mannequins behind the shopkeeper. He screeches to a halt.

"Holy quiznak, are those _snapbacks_?"

The shopkeeper blinks two sets of eyelids, lowering the broom. They glance behind them towards the hats.

"What?"

Keith follows their gaze, then groans and drags a hand down his face. "Lance, no."

"Lance, yes!" Lance is already shoving him aside, darting past the shopkeep and leaning up on his tiptoes to reach the hats. They are. They are totally snapbacks. Sectioned top, wide bill, adjustable plastic clippy thing on the back. "Holy crow, I can't believe it."

He plops it on top of his head and inspects himself in the small mirror next to the display, mentally rescinding every unflattering thing he has ever said about alien fashion sense.

"I need this." He announces. The shopkeepers demeanor changes immediately.

"Why of course sir!" They chirp in the bright, fake customer service voice that is both gratingly awful and unfortunately universal. "That will be thirty _lira_."

"I'm not carrying that." Keith says, crossing his arms. Lance flaps a dismissive hand at him, already fishing his coin pouch out of his pocket.

"Of course you're not. I'm wearing it."

He digs around in the pouch, piling the weird, triangular coins that this galaxy uses into his palm. Ten, sixteen, twenty three...

Oh. Oh no.

"Um. Keith."

"No." The answer is immediate. Lance pushes out his bottom lip into a pout, turning his most pathetic eyes onto his wonderful, giving, supportive-

"No!"

-stingy boyfriend.

Lance wilts.

"I told you not to spend all your money at that spa store."

Lance sighs. He did. Keith did tell him that. And now Lance will have to remain forever hatless. This is a cold and unfeeling universe. He was a fool to forget that, even for a moment.

"Okay..." he says. He takes the hat off and puts it back on the mannequin head, then shuffles dejectedly past Keith, towards the tent's exit. "Should probably be more worried about doing our job anyway."

He'll miss you, snapback. The time you had together was too brief.

Behind him, Keith heaves a sigh. Lance continues out of the tent, pushing his way past the flap. Oddly, Keith hasn't followed him. There's a clinking noise from inside, and then the tent flap shifts to reveal Keith, shoving his own purse into the pouch on his belt.

"I can't believe myself sometimes." He mutters, reaching up and jamming the hat down onto Lance's head. Lance squeals and throws his arms around him, nuzzling their cheeks together.

Keith makes a disgusted noise.

"You had better not breathe a word of this to Pidge."

Lance turns the hat around so the bill is facing backwards. "Pidge is gonna be so jealous of my swag."

Pidge is not jealous of his swag.

"I should be surprised that somehow you found the douchiest article of clothing humanity ever invented, hundreds of galaxies away from earth, and yet somehow I'm not." She says, barely glancing up at them before returning her attention to the pile of used electronics she's sifting through. She jerks her head across the street towards a store selling what looks like colorful, glowing crystals. "Target's over there. Call for back-up if you need it."

"We won't need it." Keith scoffs.

Lance rolls his eyes fondly, adjusting his totally-not-douchey hat more tightly on his head before taking his hand and tugging him across the street to the little store.

The sign attached to the canvas roof reads _C'tagrah's Curios_ in an elegant, looping script. The woman manning the cash box greets them with a cheerful smile, mandibles flaring sweetly. Lance mentally checks her face against the photo they'd been shown at the briefing this morning.

Light purple chitin, feathery antennae sort of like a moth's, delicate, segmented fingers on her four arms. She's even wearing the necklace that had been in her mugshot. Well, it certainly looks like her.

If they're right, this woman is T'Key'au, the front woman for the system's rebel faction. The one in charge of laundering the money they're using to purchase weapons and supplies. If they play this right, she could be their in to contacting the rebel leader.

"Hello." She says, flicking an antennae at them pleasantly. Lance leans a casual elbow on the counter.

"Why hello to you too." He purrs. You know, Lance isn't usually into the whole, alien bug-lady aesthetic, but she is totally rockin' those mandibles. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing stuck at work on a nice day like this?"

She blinks, a quiet rasp of chitin over iridescent compound eyes. "I'm... sorry?"

Keith facepalms. Her eyes flicker downward, to where Lance had completely forgotten to let go of Keith's hand.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry." She says, clearly uncomfortable. "My people are strictly monogamous, and I'm not really looking for a relationship anyway. But if there's something from the shop you'd like to look at-"

"Right, are you done?" Keith cuts her off, looking at Lance. "Or are you really gonna make me stand here and watch you strike out?"

Lance lets go of his hand to cross his arms, feeling the tips of his ears burn.

"Oh yeah, well what's your plan then?"

Keith reaches up and taps the comm, ignoring the sudden look of horror T'Key'au gives him.

"Pidge? We're gonna need that back-up." He says shortly, before reaching out and yanking the necklace from around the poor woman's neck. The chain snaps easily, and she screams, lunging over the counter in a futile attempt to try and grab it from him.

"Thieves!" She shrieks. "Give it back!"

"Run!" Keith snaps, and Lance wastes no time taking off right behind him. T'Key'au jumps the counter and scrambles after them. The crowd stumbles back on either side of them as they hurtle down the avenue.

"Guards!" T'Key'au yells. "My necklace!"

She's fast, which yeah, makes sense what with the six legs and all, but holy quiznak she's _fast_ , why does Keith never think these things through? In front of them, two guards burst out of a sentry station, guns trained on them, and Lance gasps. Keith grabs his hand, yanking him to the side just in time to avoid the ball of electricity that had been aimed at Lance's head.

"Shit, shit, what do we do?"

And then a kiosk topples down, right over the guards.

"Go!" Pidge shouts, already jumping over it. Lance goes.

T'Key'au is gaining on them, he realizes as he looks over his shoulder. The gate is too far away, and the shuttle a few streets beyond that. They were supposed to talk her into meeting them, not lead her on some crazy chase through the bazaar! Keith catches his eye, and Lance makes face at him.

"Don't look at me!" He pants. "This is all your fault!"

In front of them, Pidge takes a blind corner, cutting between a narrow space in the tents. They follow unthinkingly, and Lance is glad to hear hissed cursing as T'Key'au struggles to cram herself into the confined passage.

Lance taps his comm.

"Allura? We need emergency extraction." He gasps. A stitch is forming in his side.

"What?" Lance sighs in relief with what little breath he has left when Allura picks up. "What did you do?"

"Are you crazy?" Keith says. "Where are they going to land?"

"The central pavilion." Pidge barks into the radio. "Land in the central pavilion, Allura. We'll meet you there."

"I- " Allura sighs, but Lance can hear running footsteps and the whir of the shuttle spinning up. "Very well. Is the contact with you?"

"You could say that." Lance says, glancing behind them again. Their pursuer meets his eyes and gives a wordless shriek of rage completely at odds with the charming shop girl persona she'd been putting on barely two minutes ago. And over a necklace, too, sheesh. "Maybe get one of those Vulcan neck-pinches ready?"

"Lance! You were supposed to do this diplomatically!"

"Hey don't blame me! It was Keith!"

They scramble over a series of benches that pop up in the middle of their path, scattering the occupants every which way as they go.

"Sorry!" Lance yells at the old lady he sends sliding off her seat and onto the ground. "Really sorry!"

"Well _maybe_ if you hadn't started out making her uncomfortable by hitting on her, I would have had another option." Keith retaliates.

"Are you kidding me?" Pidge snarls. She's losing ground, her short legs having difficulty keeping up the pace. "Lance, what the actual hell?"

Lance groans and puts on an extra burst of speed so he can grab Pidge's hand and pull her along behind him. The look she gives him is filthy, but she accepts the help.

Finally the pavilion come into sight. When they'd passed it earlier, it had been a pleasant centerpiece to the bazaar, filled with people relaxing and enjoying the cool mist from the fountain that decorates the center. Now, it's bedlam. People are running back and forth every which way, scrambling to get away and filtering into the side avenues in a panicked crush.

This might be due to the shuttle that's landed in the middle of the square, taking up half of the available space. Lance breathes a sigh of relief when he see's Allura standing on the end of the gangway, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand as she searches the crowd for them.

"Allura!" He shouts, waving with his free hand. Her eyes snap to him, then to the enraged bug-lady hot on their heels.

Her jaw drops, but that's all the reaction she had time for, because the lot of them are thundering up the ramp and turning to look at T'Key'au, who is screeching to a halt at the bottom.

"What in the name of-" she begins, and then Pidge's bayard is tangling around her torso, pinning three of her four arms to her sides.

Keith scrambles to help, gripping the cord and adding his strength to Pidge's. T'Key'au screams, but topples forward into the shuttle. The gangplank retracts behind them, sealing them into the confined space. Allura dashes for the pilots chair, slams a hand down on the auto-launch button, and then they're away.

Dimly, Lance hears a few laser shots ricochet off the bottom of the ship, and then they're in the atmosphere, stars outside the window and total silence around them save for their ragged panting.

He collapses into one of the seats along the walls and looks back at T'Key'au.

She's staring at them, open mouthed, mandibles twitching.

"What." She says.

He offers her a sheepish smile.

"Hi." He says. "Have you ever heard of Voltron?"


End file.
